Jewel Thieves
by Frozen Comet
Summary: Everyone knows what happens when you send someone kind to the Pokémon world, but what happens when you send a criminal? A darker version of the Pokémon Emerald and Injection storylines. Chapter 2 finally up!
1. As I Lay Dying

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or anything involved in this fic except the characters of Alexander Alexander and Edward Rochester Alexander. Everything else belongs to Nintendo and the other people who own Pokémon.

Author's note: I do not condone stealing, breaking and entering, or any of the other criminal acts Alexander/Rochester performs over the course of this story. They simply are a part of his character. Stealing is wrong, and if you're caught stealing, you'll go to jail. Don't be a criminal. (This announcement paid for by the Association of Soccer Moms gathered in my room with various weapons pointed at me telling me to include this message. If you're overly concerned about negative influences on your children by the media to the point of ridiculousness, join the Association of Soccer Moms, and somebody please save me.)

This fanfiction is rated T for violence, criminal activity, character death, and gushy romance that nobody under 14 should be forced to deal with (if you feel that this should be rated M instead, feel free to tell me so; I have no intention of being a rule-breaker).

And now, without further ado, I present to you: Jewel Thieves…

* * *

Alexander Alexander hated his last name with a passion. Of course, he had a right to; his parents may have thought it was funny, but Alex considered it cruel, and his peers had always just thought of it as just something to tease him about. He considered his options for changing it as he darted among the trees surrounded the nearby mansion (hey, it was dark, but even so they provided excellent cover). After all, his parents had recently been killed in a car crash by a drunk driver. Alex may have hated his parents for giving him his stupid name, but he still loved them very much, and had vowed revenge. Alex was a very cold, vengeful person, which was why he had developed a very nasty habit of stealing whenever he could. Not breaking-and-entering or anything that required a lot of time; Alex was simply a pickpocket (not professionally, obviously, but still capable of stealing a wallet from someone as he walked past them). He had started by stealing everything he could from kids who tormented him over his name, and eventually upgraded to stealing wallets from random people in the streets. Although this vengeful spirit started causing Alex's passive-aggressive behavior, it didn't deter students from making fun of his name…until Alex attacked one of the bullies and got himself into a scrap that had practically destroyed his reputation. Now seen by everybody as a homicidal maniac, his friends had deserted him and the girl he loved had rejected him. The only upside to the whole affair is that no one dared tease him about his name anymore, but this was only because they were too scared about having the crap beaten out of them; no one dared approach him about anything anymore. Fortunately the incident had occurred off of school grounds, so although his middle school administrators had known about it, there wasn't really any disciplinary action they could take (they had tried, but Alex's parents had intervened on his behalf, claiming that the event was out of the school's jurisdiction). 

It was this very vengeful spirit that was causing him to dodge among trees at midnight behind a very stately manor. One of the occupants of this house was the teenager who had killed his parents while driving home from a party. Although this sort of thing happened from time to time in the town (full of rich WASP kids with nothing better to do), nobody had ever actually died before. And Alex wanted to get revenge on the bastard who had made his parents that unfortunate statistic ever since he quickly memorized the license plate number on the BMW speeding away from the wreckage (it really wasn't that hard; he knew the kid from school and had seen that particular car quite a few times). He had slipped away while no one was watching, grabbed his most prized possessions from his house (including a complete set of Pokémon Advance Generation Video Games, and his Game Boy Advance SP, all bought using money he'd stolen), and relocated them to his hideout in a nearby abandoned construction site.

Slipping throughout the hallways and checking for security cameras or motion detectors (there weren't any…hadn't these people ever heard of security?), Alex headed towards the mansion's central room. It was there that this particular family housed their most prized possession: a mystical flawless emerald relieved from a tribe in Africa after they had been massacred trying to resist European conquest. Alex had read about their acquisition of the emerald in a local newspaper; he figured he could plant it in the sons' room while he was drunk and frame him for the robbery. This would lead to an investigation, since the boy would be drunk, and his parents' murderer would ultimately be brought to justice…or at least, that was the plan. The problem with plans is that they have this tendency to go horribly awry.

Picking the lock on the glass case housing the emerald, Alex shuddered for a moment, wondering how this kid could have ignored all the warnings about alcohol given in health classes. Alex himself was a good student (he always got A's and B+'s, or B's in his AP classes), and had never let anything get in the way of his studies. He owed this, of course, to his parents, who desired nothing more than to see their only son get into a really good college. Still, he found it hard to balance his studies, his numerous extra-curricular activities, and rugby, the only sport he was good at (although the fact that he could beat the shit out of other players and manage to remain intact only fueled his new negative reputation; he hoped that if he could get into a good college he'd be able to leave that reputation behind). Turning his attention to the task at hand, and snickering cockily at how easy it was, he quickly removed the emerald, not even bothering to notice the pressure-activated alarm beneath the emerald until after it had been set off.

Tucking the emerald into his jacket pocket, the beeping noise startled the poor thief just as he was closing the case's door. Realizing his mistake about getting overconfident in his skills and the family's lack of security, he had let his guard down and allowed himself to get caught…Alex quickly found a window and jumped out, forgetting about planting the emerald on the kid. For once in his life, he didn't know what to do. He just followed his instincts and ran.

* * *

At the abandoned construction site where Alex had built his makeshift hideout, a blue glowing aura surrounded some of the bolts supporting a platform. They seemingly unscrewed themselves and disappeared into the bushes, but nobody was around to notice the oddity. Wish a flash of blinding white light, the bolts disappeared for eternity.

* * *

Alex ran through the streets of his town, not stopping to look back. He'd wanted to head back to the scene of the car crash and pay homage to his parents, but it was too risky. He had everything he needed anyways, as well as a quickly-grabbed family portrait he'd taken off the mantle before he left to enact his revenge. Faces had a tendency to get distorted or erased over time. Alex had no intention of letting that happen to his parents. 

As he ran towards the construction site, he began to wonder how this had happened. He had gotten cocky, and now his plan for exacting revenge was ruined. He needed to think of a way to dispose of the emerald, or at least find a place to put it. He decided to stop quickly at the construction site, and then head back to the house of another kid who had always hated his parents' murderer and plant the emerald there. Using his gloved hand to wipe the sweat off of his face, Alex muttered to himself, "Sixteen years old and I could've already screwed up my life. At least I don't have kleptomania or something like that. Then even though I'd know that I have to stop stealing, I wouldn't be able to. Fortunately this is just a hobby that I can give up at any time…"

Alex slowly crept into the abandoned construction site by hopping from tree to tree, then jumping down into the lot. He'd twisted his ankle many times doing this, but had always explained it to his parents as having fallen while running. They believed him because he constantly needed to train for rugby by running and sometimes crashing into things, so they thought that his pickpocketing excursions were just extra training for the sport. In fact, they were, as Alex had toned the muscles in his legs to make him an incredible runner to help with getaways during these excursions. These muscles had been an invaluable asset to him, helping him to navigate the dangerous, deadly maze that was now his home (at least for the next day or so).

Darting among the dormant equipment and rusting supplies, his image was momentarily reflected in a mirror lying against some nearby iron bars. The image showed a kid, about 5' 6" tall, dressed entirely in black: black long-sleeved shirt, black jogging pants (admittedly with white stripes), black sneakers, black ski mask, black hat, black trenchcoat, black gloves to prevent his fingerprints from being left behind. Suddenly, Alexander appeared behind the mirror, ducking into a secret underground cavern. Upon emerging, Alex has become a different person: wavy, light brown hair; soft, blue eyes that had been described as "dreamy" by many a female classmate prior to the…incident; a plain, forest green "rugby" tee-shirt with a logo on the breast pocket; baggy khaki shorts with large pockets near the bottom; short, white socks covered in blue-and-white tennis shoes. Examining himself in the mirror, Alex realized something: he'd forgotten the gem. "Dammit!" he cried, ducking back behind the mirror; he emerged moments later wearing the trenchcoat from before and carrying a pair of black mirror sunglasses. He looked in the mirror, pulled up his collar, and pocketed his sunglasses before darting off towards the building itself.

Alex had chosen this site for his hideout because of its inaccessibility to anybody else. The police thought no one could get in here, but Alex had managed without much trying. He'd managed to find a secret cavern underneath a stack of boards that was large enough for him to hide everything he'd stolen; hell, Alex had stocked it with enough supplies for him to be able to last in there for a few days, maybe even a week if he rationed himself properly. The only problem was that the police were partially right: the cavern was practically inaccessible, requiring Alex to navigate the maze of girders that had been put into place for the building to get to the unfinished central park area, where the cavern had been excavated to serve as the foundation of a gazebo or something. It was difficult, particularly since his muscles always ached from rugby. Still, he'd managed to find an easy route that minimized the pain and complexity.

As Alex climbed up the unfinished building, he began to wonder how he was going to survive without his parents. Then he remembered his parents had given him a video of their recent outing at a local amusement park, and Alex had simply slipped it into the pocket of his trenchcoat for safekeeping. He could feel its weight pulling the trenchcoat down ever-so-slightly, and he realized that to him, the information contained on that video (his parents' faces, their voices, the memories and good times they shared) were more valuable to Alex than any emerald. But that emerald, the video, and the picture were all he had to remember them by…they were no longer there. The moments…the memories…the laughter…the accidents…the caring personal conversations…there would be no more of that. Stopping upon a ledge, Alex started to cry.

"Pull yourself together, man. You just have to move on. If you let this get to you so much, you'll break down and lose the will to live, and you know that suicide is for weak idiots. You'll just have to put aside your theft hobby and live the rest of your life exactly as your parents would have wanted you to." His touching speech to himself finished, Alex decided to rechristen himself then and there. His general knowledge being as extensive as it was, he decided to give himself a new name based on what sort of character he had become. He tried to describe himself: ruthless, cold, hurt by his past, completely uncaring as to others' perception of him (somewhat), incredibly powerful and wealthy (well, not incredibly so, but wealthy and powerful enough)…one name came to mind. Edward Rochester, the "antagonist" of the novel Jane Eyre. The name fit him perfectly; it was unusual, harsh, and very-well fitting, since Rochester actually fit all of the characteristics about himself. Deciding to call himself Edward Rochester Alexander (leaving his last name intact as a tribute to his parents), he silently reflected upon the one thing that happened to Rochester that he hoped would never happen to him: during a fire, Rochester suffered an accident that blinded him and destroyed the great life he had built for himself. Alex (henceforth desiring to be called by his middle name) pondered this for a moment before the platform gave way beneath, causing him to fall a few feet and hit his head on a girder. He passed out, never to awaken again in this world.

* * *

Next chapter: Alex, now Rochester, is visited by Celebi and Jirachi and offered a strange choice that will decide his fate… 


	2. Blackest of Hearts

Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon. In fact, I only own one character/idea in this entire story: Rochester. Everything else belongs to someone else. Also, Alex/Rochester being incredibly familiar with the Pokémon games is something I stole from my good friend Sandstone, so I think I might give him credit where credit is due. I also stole his idea of involving Jirachi in the process of transporting the main character from our world to Hoenn, but Celebi was just something I threw in for the hell of it.

This chapter's just a hair shorter than the last one, but it's hopefully just as good. I've also had to install a certain system to use for multiple forms of communication, posted below.

Human speech: "Regular text in quotation marks"

Pokémon speech (incomprehensible to humans unless otherwise noted: _"Italicized text in quotation marks"_

Telepathy: (_Italicized text in parentheses_)

* * *

Rochester awoke to blackness. "Strange…normally when you wake up, you expect to see something, but all I can see is black," he muttered to himself. Then he looked down and saw himself, much to his distress. "That's odd," he mused, "why would I be able to see myself when there clearly isn't any source of light nearby? It's almost as if the laws of reality don't apply here!" 

(_They don't._) was the reply that seemed to come from nowhere. The speaker had a rather high-pitched voice that seemed to belong to a young boy, but as Rochester looked around, frightened, he couldn't see anybody there. A young girl's voice added, (_But does it really matter?_)

"OK, what the hell is going on?" exclaimed Rochester as he sat up (which was strange, as he had previously been floating in midair). All of a sudden, two creatures came into view: one small and white with a yellow cape and star-shaped hat, somewhat translucent in nature; the other one green with wide eyes and what appeared to be fly wings on its back. Rochester immediately recognized the two figures as the only Pokémon he'd never managed to catch: the legendaries, Jirachi and Celebi. At their appearance, Rochester inquired (with slightly more confusion in his voice), "I reiterate, what the hell is going on?"

(_Relax,_) came the boy's voice, (_we're not going to harm you. My name is…_) "Jirachi, I know." Rochester turned to the green creature. "And your friend is Celebi. I'm guessing both of you are talking to me through telepathy."

(_Correct on all counts...although, admittedly, Jirachi and I are more than just "friends"_) came the girl's voice, which had been identified as Celebi. (_But do you know why we're here?_) "Damned if I know," replied Rochester. "I'd say that this is a dream, due to how reality has been screwed up, but I feel like I'm awake!"

(_We'll address that later. Right now, we need your help._) Rochester turned to Jirachi. "You need _my_ help? I thought you guys were supposed to be pure and kindhearted? Why the hell would you want the help of a cold, morally insufficient thief?"

(_An ancient conflict is about to come to a crescendo, and we specifically need your assistance to ensure that it culminates in our victory._) Upon hearing this, Rochester turned to Celebi. "Right…I'm guessing this has something to do with Groudon and Kyogre?" (_Yes._) Rochester turned to Jirachi. "Would you stop doing that? This is confusing enough as it is without having you two lovebirds bouncing your sentences off each other…you two _are_ lovebirds, right? Or did I misinterpret Celebi's comment?"

(_No, you're right on the money. Jirachi and I have been dating ever since he discovered he could mentally project an image of himself anywhere he chose, even while locked in his millennial slumber. It's also…nevermind._)

Rochester raised his left eyebrow, something he often did when he was confused, skeptical, or curious. Deciding it wouldn't be prudent to pursue the matter, he simply mumbled, "It must be hard for you guys to make out…" Disapproving looks from both Pokémon indicated that they had heard that comment, he decided to change the subject. "So, if I agree to help you guys, what's in it for me?"

His seemingly perpetual smile fading, Jirachi replied, (_Not much, really. Just a little bit of power, some fame, and your life…_) "My life? What's that supposed to mean?" exclaimed Rochester as a worried tone overtook his previously calm (albeit confounded) demeanor. He looked wildly between the two "lovebirds", shouting "What's going on?"

(_By combining my power of time travel with Jirachi's power to grant wishes, I was able to travel to your dimension and observe your future, should you choose not to join us. I'm afraid it will be short but painless, since you will remain unconscious for about five minutes until the entire building caves in on you. Jirachi and I combined our powers again to contact you in this subconscious state and offer you this proposal: journey to our world and help us protect our future, or never awaken again._)

Rochester thought this over for a moment. "Two questions. First of all, if I come with you to your world, will I be able to return to my own? And secondly, how long do I have to decide?" Jirachi thought for a moment, then turned to Celebi. (_About three minutes, right?_) (_Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds, but who's counting?_) came Celebi's sarcastic response. (_Right, about three minutes._) "Yes, but will I be able to return to this world?" (_Unfortunately, no. In order to make this a round trip, Jirachi and I would have to send somebody from our universe back to your own, and believe me when I tell you that things would get awkward if we did. So if you decide not to die, then I'm afraid it's a one-way ticket to our dimension._)

Rochester sat there thinking for about thirty seconds before finally deciding. "There is, in all honesty, nothing left for me in my universe. My parents are dead, my friends have deserted me, the girl I loved has deserted me…and since I don't believe in an afterlife, I really have no desire to die in a desperate attempt to be reunited with my parents. Although my death would be cruel and torturous to those who knew me, so would my disappearance into another dimension…I suppose my own knowledge of Pokémon would be incredibly useful to me in this universe of yours, and there's also the possibility that by leaving my reputation behind I'll be able to make some new friends, or possibly even learn to love again…oh, wait, that'll never happen." Rochester sighed. "Time check?"

(_Two minutes, eleven seconds._) emanated from Celebi's mind. Rochester sat thinking for another ten seconds before finally asking, "Are you guys _sure_ you want me to help you? I mean, I hate absolutely everybody I come in contact with, regard everybody I meet in the darkest manner, and view most emotions coldly and unwelcomingly. I also have an illegal hobby that nearly got me in a boatload of trouble today because I frankly don't care about the rules of society. I'm cold, vengeful, cynical…mine is the blackest of hearts. Hell, I even went so far to steal this in a desperate attempt to get revenge on the guy who killed my parents." At this, Rochester reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out the emerald concealed within, holding it up so the two Psychic Pokémon could see it clearly.

At the sight of the emerald, Jirachi and Celebi looked at each with expressions of both shock and glee written all over their faces. They both turned back to Rochester, but instead of "saying" anything to him, they simply screwed up their faces as if they were intensely concentrating on something. Suddenly, their eyes began to glow blue, and Rochester suddenly felt himself being painfully bombarded from all sides by a mental force that was trying to break its way into his very mind. It succeeded in doing this, and Rochester nearly fainted from the pain of the most massive migraine he had ever experienced, which was accompanied by his head being filled with his own thoughts that were now repeatedly flying through his brain at high decibel levels, nearly deafening him. Throughout all of this, Jirachi's voice suddenly permeated the medium of thought and spoke gently to the suffering teen: (_We can see from your thoughts that although you have doubts towards your usefulness in this conflict, you are desperate to enter our world to escape the pain of your own. And, yes, we can bring you into our world with the clothes on your back and the effects on your person; we would not "simply dump you naked in some random forest" and hope for the best. In fact, if you help us, we will prevent anyone from finding your other personal possessions from your world, and even bring them to our world when you have been of sufficient usefulness to us and we no longer need your services. But believe me, although yours "is the blackest of hearts", it is this black heart that we need to ensure that everything works out for the best for us in the end. Your heart, your mind, and your emerald have all betrayed your desired fate to you, and we bid you farewell until we meet again…this time, in our dimension._)

There was a blinding light, and as the pain rippled through every inch of his unconscious body, Rochester's mind faded from existence, never to see the light of day in his own world again.

* * *

The police found the teenager lying in the middle of the construction site. The search having failed to turn up anything else, the chief paramedic had ordered his unfortunate assistant to load the cadaver into a body bag and bring it back to the forensics lab with the others for an unnecessary autopsy. The death of Alexander Alexander would most likely be ruled as a suicide, committed out of grief for the passing of his beloved parents. The teen's death would have a profound impact on everybody he had met, particularly those who had treated him so coldly because of his past behaviors and their fears of him. However, one individual in particular was particularly touched by Alex's death, as she felt that she almost could have prevented it. Guilt, as she learned the hard way, is a powerful, crippling emotion, leaving you to wonder what could have been; leaving you to regret that your actions had not been different; leaving you helpless as you try to pick up the pieces of your now decimated life. Sometimes, of course, the emotion of grief can leave your world turned upside-down, only to have itself righted again to set it in place so it can once again be turned upside-down. But that's another story.

* * *

The Eevee watched the shooting star fall through the early evening sky. _"They say that if you see a shooting star and if you make a wish on it, it will come true,"_ he muttered to himself as he watched it careen across the heavens; tears welled up in his eyes as he paused before murmuring, _"I wish I could see my sister again and find out if she's alive…"_

To the Eevee's surprise, the shooting star suddenly seemed to get bigger and bigger until it finally crashed in the middle of Petalburg Woods, a few miles from where the Eevee stood motionless. Something told him to go investigate this falling star that fell from the sky, and whatever that something was, it also told him that he was connected to this star. The Eevee did not know what that something was, but it had never been wrong before. The Eevee didn't pause to reflect on this as he darted towards what would become his future.

* * *

Next time: Rochester gets himself into a Pokémon "battle" in an attempt to save a wounded Pokémon from cruel trainers intent on beating the crap out of it, only to get rescued by the most unlikely of heroes… 


End file.
